Schillinger's Sweet Pea
by MrKoryMisun
Summary: Schillinger/Beecher. If you dislike this pairing, fine, but it is almost nonexistent on here. I hope everyone who reads enjoys this short and leaves me a review or suggestion! WARNING: M/M, Language, Racist Terms/Symbols and Dub/Non-Con.


_**WARNING, WARNING!: This Oz fan fiction contains male sexual relations, swearing, non-consensual sex, mentions of oral and anal sex, prison, racism and racist symbols, and bodily fluids. If you read this to the end, please review and leave suggestions about what you would like to see in future shorts. I make nothing from this fan-work and the Preview Image is owned by HBO.**_

_**~OZ~**_

Tobias Beecher couldn't wait for this to just end already. Schillinger had had him pinned to the top bunk in their pod for almost five hours straight, fucking him so slow and squeezing his cock just right so he couldn't get off. Every time was pure torture that burned and felt so good once he was used to the stretch of another man inside him. Toby hated himself for finding pleasure in the act, was so ashamed he thought multiple times of killing himself with his toothbrush.

Vern didn't care about him, didn't want to. All he wanted was a bitch to control, intimidate and get regular sex from when he demanded it. Toby couldn't remember how many times the Aryan bastard had used his mouth and ass since he arrived at Emerald City, but he prayed Vern would tire of him soon and fuck the light out of somebody else, anybody. At least Simon Adebisi wouldn't have branded him.

"Nngh! Sir, please..." he managed to whimper, crying into his rapist's shoulder and clinging to Vern's back. _"Please,_ please."

"What? Hurts again? Ya gotta loosen up, Sweet Pea," Schillinger chuckled cruelly, hiking Toby's legs up and pushing in deeper than before, forcing his prag to see stars every time he hit his prostate. "That better?"

"Y-Yes sir, isn't so bad," Toby's voice shuddered painfully with the rest of him as Vern sucked on the curve of his neck and gnawed the vulnerable skin there. If he didn't speak up Toby was going to get bitten, hard, and he didn't need everyone seeing the marks. "Please, sir. Do me harder until you finish... A-Ahh!"

Vern turned Toby onto his side and shoved his cock in till his balls smacked into the lawyer's ass. "That's what makes you the best prag, Toby. You always think of me, don't ya? Well, I think that behavior deserves a reward."

The Aryan slipped his hand around Toby's painful looking erection and gave it a few gentle strokes, up and down. His dick pounded Toby, wringing sobs and precious little squeaks from him that every other inmate could hear. In and out. Up and in, down and out. The bitch's increasing tightness was bringing Vern to the end.

"Fffuck, Tobias, cum. Cum now, little fucking prag." Vern licked the marks on Toby that were sure to become bruises before it was time for Count in the morning. "Rrrnngh..."

"Mm! Th-Thank you, sir!" recited Toby for the thirtieth fucking time, throat raw from all the noises he hadn't meant to make. He cried silently as Vern emptied his load inside, stretching him to the limit and making the mess on the sheets even bigger. His release was drawn out and agonizing, Vern's hand rubbing him until there was nothing left. Toby whined and squirmed around the thick member as it retreated, and he was filled with such a horrid emptiness when he was no longer connected with Schillinger. This development disturbed him by no small means.

The Aryan leader dragged poor Toby down the ladder steps of the top bunk to the cement floor. "I have to sleep on the bottom tonight 'cause you messed up my bed. You're sleeping on the floor until the sheets are clean, prag. Do you understand me?" he said in his low, frightening tone with no room for argument. He still had his black boots on, and if aimed right Toby could wind up in the infirmary with some cracked ribs. There was no alternative, and he was exhausted.

"Yes sir. I'm sorry," whispered Toby, kneeling beside Vern and rubbing up against his leg submissively. This was the worst, what Vern had told him was the prag's way of saying goodnight to its owner. Vern's hand tangled in his short sandy hair and petted for a few moments, enjoying the feel of another, even if it was a little pansy shit like Beecher.

"You're forgetting one last thing, Sweet Pea," said Schillinger, his voice heavy with satisfaction and sleepiness as his underwear were added to the pile of dirty clothes in the hamper, his boots set beside the bed.

Toby scrambled uneasily to his feet and nearly collapsed, but Vern's hands closed around his hips to steady him.

"Uhn... Thanks. Goodnight." Toby closed his eyes against Vern's smug expression, against the pain in his heart and abused anus. Most of all against the humiliation crushing him like a ton of concrete rubble. He closed his eyes and forced himself to kiss the racist bastard who had managed to ruin Toby Beecher's life in just a few short days. Hell, even more than Toby himself had ruined it by drinking and driving, by killing Kathy Rockwell.

Vern pressed harshly on Toby's lips and cupped his ass, just inches away from the offensive brand of a Swastika on his right cheek. Beecher sucked gently on the tongue trying to invade his mouth and gave it a bold little nip. "Good boy. Lay down and sleep or I'll keep you up till sunrise," the Aryan growled, grinding his stiffening member against Toby's thigh.

Toby pulled away from Schillinger when he was given the order and curled up as close to the glass door as possible without touching it, shivering from pain and the low temperature in Emerald City. Vern tried to turn a blind eye to his prag's misery, but his heart wasn't completely dead, or he wouldn't have stretched Toby with his fingers before fucking him. He supposed it would be fine to show a little concern this time, since he was the cause of so much bodily fluid being on the sheets in the first place.

When Toby was startled awake by the morning buzzer, Vern was facing the wall on the bottom bunk snoring, and he was wrapped neck-to-toe in the older man's blanket.

_**THE END**_


End file.
